Victory Is Mine

"Hey there, boys, what's shaking?"

Both men turned to her with comically surprised expressions. Victory gave them time to draw billy-clubs from their belts, easily blocking their clumsy attacks with her invincible bracelets. Then her slender body twirled like a dancer as she punched one in the jaw, at the same time swinging her alluring leg to deliver a side kick to the other! Thanks to the super strength behind the blows, the sassy superheroine stood over two unconscious bodies.

If these two were on guard, she thought to herself, there must be others inside the house.

She paused before heading inside, her flawless eyebrows rising as she noticed the uniforms the men were wearing underneath their dark cloaks... off white tunics and trousers in the style of Roman soldiers!

These are the Centurion's men! She realized. The Roman tunics are his calling card, alright!

The last time she had faced Centurion he had caught her off guard and managed to put the heroine in quite a compromising position. Even though she had beaten the villain in their final encounter, she could forget what he had done to her when she had been helpless...how it had made her feel having his way with her...Victory shook her head, clearing such thoughts. This time she would be ready!

Victory raced inside. Sure enough standing in the living room was a tall, muscular man dressed like a Roman centurion complete with breastplate and helmet! He was standing before a high security, bulletproof display cabinet fiddling with a small tool. He had just finished tripping the lock as Victory entered and he turned to look at her.

"Ah, Victory!" he said, taking off his helmet and smiling as his gaze ran appreciatively over her attractive curves. "A pleasure and a delight to the eyes as always, my beautiful arch-enemy!"

"Save it, Centurion!" the superheroine replied, color rising to her cheeks in spite of herself. She crossed her arms over her bust. "You know that you're no match for me! Why don't you save me the trouble of beating you up and surrender?"

"That would be no fun at all," he said, suddenly pouncing on her.

Victory raised her bracelets defensively, but the villain didn't draw a weapon. Instead his muscular arms wrapped around her svelte figure in some kind of wrestling hold. It was unexpected, despite his powerful build as long she had her super strength he was no match physically for her. Then she felt his hands slip around the curve of her alluring waist, trying to get at her power belt!

"Oh no you don't!" the sexy superbabe said, catching his wrists in the nick of time. "Look but don't touch, Centurion!"

The villain smiled disarmingly. "Oh you lovely minx," he said, straining to reach her, "surely you can't blame a man for wanting to get his hands on your body?"

Victory felt her cheeks blushing, remembering how the Centurion had already had his hands on her once before. A small part of her wanted to be taken by him again, longed for it. She had to bite her lip to keep from giving in...especially this close, her senses filled with his masculine musk...

"I could care less how horny you are," she said smugly. "Just keep those hands to yourself!"

Thanks to Victory's super strength, it was no great feat to hold on to his wrists and keep his hands away from her power belt. However, being a male, he outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds. She felt her boot heels slip an inch or two on the carpet as he manuevered her lissome body backwards in the direction of the sofa. Uh-oh!

Taking advantage of her distraction, he suddenly twisted free, reaching down to pluck a weapon from his belt. The next thing the gorgeous superheroine knew, he had caught her from behind, her sleek, spandex-clad body pressed tight against his chest with an eighteen inch wooden rod pinned across her lovely swan-like throat!

"This is nice, isn't it?" he whispered into her ear, his free hand feeling up her right breast through the thin fabric of her uniform.

"I... said..." Victory gasped, driving her elbow backwards and breaking the choke hold. "Hands OFF!" In an instant, the superheroine had grabbed his arm and flipped him into the front of the bulletproof display cabinet with a crash!

The impact jarred the cabinet, causing an exquisite object of pure white crystal to topple out the open door, where the Centurion caught it gently in both hands. It was shaped like a woman's face with a dancing figure carved on the right cheek. It looked priceless!

Victory halted in her tracks. "Put that down, Centurion! Nice and easy!"

He was holding it reverently. "I don't intend to harm it, enchantress. This is the Mask of Terpsichore, the Muse of Dance. Once owned by the Emperor Constantine."

"It's lovely," Victory said absently, her mind more on inching closer without making him drop it.

"Yes it is," the Centurion said. "And it also has one very interesting property." He raised it high over his head. Just then the light of the full moon came through the skylight, reflecting off the mask and flashing across Victory's bright green eyes!

It wasn't particularly bright, and yet that reflected moonlight held the stunning superheroine spellbound. Her mouth dropped open and every muscle seemed to go limp as she stood staring at the glowing mask, hypnotized! Then she could hear music... From far away, seemingly carried by the moonbeams themselves, a wonderful melody poured into her ears. As it grew, it seemed to twine throughout her body, making her tingle all over. Her arms and legs began to twitch.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the Centurion said. "Why don't you dance for me?"

"Nnno! I... wwon't," Victory said, struggling to resist the urge to do just that.

"You can't fight it," the villain said, carefully setting the Mask of Terpsichore on a nearby table. "Dance!"

"Can't... fight it," the beautiful superheroine echoed.

The music was addicting, intoxicating. Victory couldn't stop herself. Her body began to slowly sway, her arms lifting as her right leg rose and she threw herself into a graceful pirouette. She felt like a music box ballerina. The music controlled her, subjugating her to the Centurion's will. The harder she tried to resist, the deeper under its spell she seemed to fall.

"Come here," the Centurion commanded, and her body obeyed helplessly.

She twirled over and halted in front of him, poised on her toes, her arms spread, her limbs quivering with suppressed urge to be moving. He came up behind her and took off her bracelets. Then he took her bare wrists and slid his hands all the way down her smooth arms. He was so close that she could feel the heat of his body and the gentle pressure of his lips as he kissed her soft, bare shoulder. Her eyes closed, skin shivering with his touch. He followed the sweet curves of her breasts, her torso, her belly, and finally his hands encircled her slender waist as he unfastened her power belt and removed it!

"Nnnno," Victory whimpered, immobile and weak and helpless to resist his will as he stripped her of her weapons. "Stop! Please stop!"

"Now that your fangs are drawn," he said, "dance for me!"

Again her body obeyed, like a marionette with no will of its own. Victory sank gracefully to one knee while she unzipped her boot and took it off. Then she switched to the other leg. Now barefoot, she rose up on her toes and began to oscillate from side to side like a charmed cobra, her hips bumping. She swirled over to him, dancing around him in circles, drawing closer with each circuit, close enough to reach out and brush her hands flirtatiously at his loose clothing.

The Centurion's eyes tried to follow Victory's eyes as she undulated seductively around him, but her body was too distracting. Her two piece costume clung delicately to the luscious roundness of her breasts and her pert buttocks. He reached out and almost grabbed that tempting little booty, but with a little jiggle, she snatched her tail tantalizingly out of reach.

Victory paused, dancing in place as she removed her mask. Her heart was pounding. The exertion was making her feel warm, her skin kissed by a moist sheen of perspiration. She slinked closer, making another circuit around him, hands touching his broad shoulders as she passed behind him, leaving her mask in his hands as she moved in front of him again.

Victory swayed alluringly as she reached behind her and undid her halter top! She struggled to stop this humiliating strip-tease, but the music had her completely under the Centurion's control. And then she was facing him again, hugging her top to her bust while she glissaded closer, closer, until, his eyes locked onto hers as she passed behind him, she dropped the garment into his waiting arms! Now she was spinning off to a safe distance, with her arms raised out to either side, leaving her wonderful naked breasts free to jiggle enticingly with every movement!

The Centurion was also sweating now. Licking his lips, he raised her empty halter top to his face, smelling the warm, fragrant aroma from her exquisite body on it. Quickly he took off his breastplate and weapons belt. There was a brief distraction as his two henchmen appeared in the doorway, their eyes bugging out with astonishment, but a harsh command sent them out of the room again. This was for his eyes only!

Victory's body was quivering all over. She wanted to touch herself, caress her breasts or hide them from view, but she was powerless. She knew the Centurion's eyes were drinking in the sight of her body, following her every move, wanting her. Just outside his reach, she faced away from him, spreading her legs and gyrating her hips seductively back and forth, knowing that he was probably staring at her peach-like ass and loving every second of it.

"Oh please don't make me," she moaned, as her thumbs slid into the waistband of her hot pants.

Absent of her own will, Victory gently slipped them over her hips! Her gorgeous rear end was still bobbing from side to side as she leaned way over, letting her pants slide down her long, elegant legs, leaving only the white line of her flimsy thong panties. She stepped out of her shorts, snatched them up and once more began her sensual pirouette.

By now close to exhaustion, Victory was no longer entirely sure if it WAS the music controlling her! Her body moved on its own. Swirling around and around, she let her hot pants trail in the air as she spun closer and closer to him. When she finally ran out of steam, she spun to stop on her knees at his feet, gasping for breath, her final garment held up like an offering.

"Please, Master," she gasped. "What is your desire?"

"My green-eyed slave girl," the Centurion said, taking her pants and throwing them aside, "what I desire right now is your juicy snatch!"

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the hall to the guest bedroom. Plopping her on the bed, he took hold of her thong panties and pulled them off. The flimsy white nylon whispered over the skin of her legs, her ankles, and then it was gone.

How could this have happened so quickly? Victory wondered as she lay there nude. Is it really some form of mind control...or does part of me want this??

The superheroine feared the answer. What should have been a simple confrontation with a couple of common burglars had ended with her defeated and helpless! The Centurion pulled off his tunic and shorts and climbed onto the bed, his mouth resting on her navel, kissing, sucking her tender flesh. Her body squirmed under him as he continued tracing a path upwards, over her ribs to the valley between her nubile young breasts.

"Ohhhhh nooo," the defenseless superheroine groaned as his lips touched her nipples. "Please..."

Adrenalin rushed through Victory's bloodstream at the sight of his bare chest. Her hands reached up on their own, touching him, caressing his rippling muscles. His strong hand gripped her firm C-cup, squeezing and twisting, causing her pink nub to stand up like a tiny top hat! Victory could not hold back a moan, rolling her slim hips against his rock hard body. In that moment the superheroine surrendered, whether to the magical mask or her own desire she did not want to know!

"Oh please," she begged, "Please, I want you..."

"Jordin, my harem girl," he whispered, kissing her graceful neck, "your breasts are as sweet as grapes, your flower is honey and wine..."

Her thighs parted for him, revealing the heroine's vulnerable soft spot, prim and shaven. She could not have kept her knees together to save her life. However the villain climbed off of her, instead taking her by the waist and flipping her face down on the bed. Victory raised her pert backside like a cat in heat, his hands slapped her naked tail as he forced her thighs apart. One hand moved in between her legs, two fingers gliding along the lips of her succulent cooz.

"ooooooohhh," she moaned, her whole body trembling in anticipation, "please don't... don't tease me..."

He mounted her from behind, his body pressed against her while his hardness felt for the dripping wet opening of her shaved pussy. He coupled with her, gave a hard PUSH, and "OHHHHHHHH!" he hissed with pleasure as his cock slid moistly into her tunnel!

"Aahhh!" the heroine cried out.

It hurt a little bit, coming in from this angle, but the pain only made her want it more, for some reason made her CRAVE it! She tried to brace herself, curling her fingers into the sheets looking for some kind of purchase. Her thighs spread to accommodate his deep thrusts, each one rocking her slender body, while his big hands found her tits, fondling, squeezing, pinching her nipples.

"Please don't... don't stop..." she gasped, bucking against his thrusts with her own eagerness.

Centurion's hands slid down her slim torso, taking a firm grip on her narrow hips as he increased the tempo. A surge of molten heat rushed through her body and the heroine could not hold back a shuddery moan, feeling like nothing more than his plaything. His throbbing tool drove into her like a well-oiled piston, in and out, pumping, pumping, humping... The superheroine felt shame wash over her, how could she allow this villain to have her yet again? She was helpless, true, but now her body responded in kind, wanting him, needing him, begging for him to plow her harder...HARDER...

"Harder..." Victory mewled. "Harder!"

"Oh Mighty Jupiter!" Centurion cried out as he came with a final powerful thrust!

Feeling the grip on her hips tighten, pulling her fully onto his throbbing shaft as the rush of warmth erupted into her helpless body, Victory climaxed hard, crying out; "OH GOD YES!!!"

Victory's head was spinning. She gasped as Centurion pulled out of her, the sensation of him sliding out as titillating as when he slid in. Finally, spent and used, the heroine's body gave in and she collapsed onto the bed, her mind swimming in post coital bliss.

The next thing Jordin knew, morning sunlight was filtering through the windows. She lay cuddled in the tangled bed sheets, hugging the pillow, as the events of the night came flooding back.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, suddenly sitting upright. "It's dawn!?"

She was all alone in a movie star's bed, and some kind of beeping alarm was going off somewhere. Jordin hunted around for her thong panties, but couldn't seem to find them anywhere. Stark naked, she ran back into the living room. The sliding door was still open, letting in the early morning cool, but the security system was armed again. The monitor next to the living room door showed a car moving slowly up the driveway!

Oh no! Of course, she's home early! Victory thought, immediately recognizing Olympia Keaton James's Mercedes.

Victory frantically began hunting up her clothing and wriggling into it, one garment at a time. Halter top... hot pants... boots... mask... power belt and bracelets... Only when she was dressed did she find her thong panties, somehow out here in the living room, but by then...

"VICTORY!" said a female voice. "You're out early! What are you doing here?" Two women were standing just inside the sliding door, the owner of the house and her assistant.

"Miss James!" the superheroine gasped, guiltily hiding her thong behind her. "Um... your door was open..." It was a lame excuse and she knew it. She tried to get ahold of herself. "I spotted some suspicious characters lurking around, and I..."

Oh God, Jordin thought! The Centurion! How am I going to explain that the supervillain has stolen her no doubt priceless Mask of Terpsichore...or worse that I couldn't stop him because I was too busy getting plowed like Old Macdonald's backyard?

She turned automatically to the display cabinet, only to find that it was locked up tight, the mask had been returned to its spot, seemingly safe and sound. A Post-it note was stuck to the glass. It read: "In memory of a truly AMAZING evening... C"

Victory snatched off the note and balled it up before anyone else could see it. Miss James and her assistant were wandering around the room, taking inventory.

"Well, nothing appears to be missing," the actress said. "I suppose when they saw YOU, they screamed in panic and ran away. I know I would if I were a burglar."

Victory cleared her throat. "Could be..."

The superheroine turned away from the two women, hoping they wouldn't notice her blushing. There had definitely been screaming involved, but to the best of her recollection, it hadn't been from panic.

THE END...

Let's Get Physical

Jordin Tyler turned off her computer, stood up from her desk, stretching her lean lissome body. Here R&D team were working on a new type of scanning device for the Department of Homeland Security, as the team member with the least seniority (though she suspected it had more to do with being a woman), guess who was stuck writing up the tedious evaluation reports? On top of that, she had wasted half the day waiting to brief an outside consultant, but the dork had never showed!

Five o'clock! While most people poured into the parking lot to go home, Jordin made sure her big heavy-rimmed glasses were in place and headed for the company gymnasium. In the ladies locker room, the young engineer changed into a purple and black sport bra and black spandex yoga tights. Leaving her bracelets in her locker, she put her long brunette hair up in a ponytail and joined a blonde secretary named Kayley for a stretching workout.

A couple of guys were already on the machines, pumping away and flexing their muscles, which practically had Kayley (dressed in a pink crop top and shorts) drooling. As they paired off on their mats, Jordin was happy to let the other girl face the men while she turned her back to them. They had a long workout, stretching, twisting, jumping and running in place until their tight young bodies were both glistening with perspiration.

"Don't look now," Kayley said suddenly, "but there's a hunk checking you out."

"Really?" Jordin said indifferently, setting her glasses more firmly. She had a firm rule about workplace romances. She didn't even turn around.

"I don't recognize him," Kayley went on. "He must be a consultant."

"Finally?" Jordin snorted. "I've been talking to his voice mail all day!" She already had him pictured as some skinny nerd reeking of Axe, with patched glasses and high-water pants.

At the edge of the exercise floor were two men, one with his back to them. The other was Mr. Ridley, one of the company's high muckamucks, dressed in a tuxedo. "Miss Tyler!" he said. "This is Malcolm Gordon, the freelance consultant here to look at the Argos Project. Could you show him around? I'm running late for my daughter's recital."

"Of course, Mr. Ridley," Jordin started to say, but her mouth dropped open and her vocal cords seemed to freeze up. Malcolm Gordon was six foot one and built like a dream! He was wearing Gucci loafers and a brown Armani suit without a tie. Jordin heard Kayley suck in her breath at his masculine gorgeousness even as she felt her own heart beat faster, her blood singing and her vagina quivering with arousal.